Dead Man's Float
by MusicalLuna1
Summary: This WaterWorld is like the movie Waterworld. Low-budget. When Shawn gets roped into a job at a waterpark, it's murder, meyhem, and madness galore.
1. Prologue: Water You Talking About?

XDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDd I have nothing to say about this.

* * *

1987

Shawn groaned, flopping onto the front porch steps in a manner that suggested he'd been fatally exposed to the brutal heat wave Santa Barbara was currently experiencing, dehydrated and on the verge of being overwhelmed by heatstroke. "I'm dying, Dad," he moaned.

Henry was unimpressed.

"Shawn, it's ninety degrees out. You've been outside for all of five minutes. I seriously doubt you're dying."

"It is pretty hot, Mr. Spencer," Gus said from his position slouched next to Shawn, wiping a bead of perspiration from his forehead.

"And what would you like me to do about it? Blot out the sun maybe? Call forth the winter winds?" Henry asked.

Shawn perked up, his eyes brightening. "I know! You could take us to WaterWorld, Dad!"

"Yeah!" Gus chimed in, sitting up eagerly.

Henry snorted. "Don't be absurd, Shawn. That place is a dump. You'd probably cut yourself on a screw or something, and then I'd have to take you to the Emergency Room to get you a tetanus shot so you wouldn't get _lock-jaw_ and... No. It's not happening. Not today, not next week, never."

"Aw, Dad! Come on! We're dying here! It's a million degrees out! Cut us some slack man!"

"First off," Henry said, pointing a finger sharply at his son, "don't call me 'man'. And secondly, no. Way. Go play in the ocean if you want to get wet."

Shawn groaned, slouching back against the steps again to sulk. "Dad! You know we can't go swimming in the ocean here! There's rocks!"

Henry sighed, rolling his eyes and said, "Fine. I'll tell you what. I'll create a mini-waterpark for you guys right here in the yard. How's that sound?"

"Oh, right, Dad. You're gonna build us a water slide? Or a wave pool?"

"No," Henry retorted, "I'm going to get the water sprinkler."

* * *

snerk Henry's downright hilarious, idn't he? 


	2. Surface Tension

This story was written for the virtual season over at Psychfic, and was the premiere. Just so ya'll know. If you like, you should go check out the rest of the season over at Psychfic. :D

* * *

Present

Lassiter pulled his sunglasses off, squinting in the bright sunlight, and slid them into his coat pocket. "Where are we going, O'Hara?" he asked, and grimaced as several sopping wet children ran, screaming and laughing, past him.

The two detectives were at WaterWorld, a water park just outside Santa Barbara. It was a beautiful October afternoon, all of southern California in the midst of a freak heatwave that made it feel like it was still mid-summer, and Juliet had been wondering all morning how it was that Lassiter could wear a full suit and manage to look like there was no heat. She, for one, was burning up, and she had her lightest suit on. She had even worn a skirt in the hopes that it would cool her down a little.

Seeing all of the people running around them in bathing suits, wet and cool and having so much fun made her wish it were her day off. Sighing forlornly and pulling her eyes away from the kiddie pool, she said, "The 'Tornado Twister'," and then shielded her eyes, squinting as she peered further into the park. "That way."

Lassiter nodded shortly and they were on their way. As they walked, Juliet eyed the various attractions longingly and thought that maybe if they wrapped this one up quickly, she might use her badge to sneak in a little "fun in the sun". She wasn't sure how it could take over three weeks for a psychic detective to solve an embezzlement case, but said psychic detective hadn't given Karen so much as a scrap of evidence, so she and Lassiter had been recruited to see what the hold up was.

Still, she couldn't help thinking as they strode past the Wave Pool that it looked really nice and…ooh. So did the lifeguard.

She smiled slightly to herself and surreptitiously took a better look. He was nicely tanned from all that time in the sun and he was toned, but not _too_ well muscled, which she loved. He almost looked familiar. She smirked as she realized he was sitting in that, _Yeah, I know, I'm hot, go ahead and look_, way that was so not cool, and yet, _so_ attractive. He suddenly smiled beneath his sunglasses and she glanced away, blushing slightly at having been caught and grinning because out of the corner of her eye, she could see him watching her. And then he slid down his sunglasses.

Her eyes widened and she turned her head sharply to look directly at him, to make sure, and suddenly her face was flushing bright red. _Shawn Spencer_. He was grinning broadly now, waving flirtatiously at her.

"Lassie! Jules!" he called, and Lassiter's head snapped up, eyes narrowing. They widened again when he figured out where the voice he detested so much was coming from.

"Spencer?" he said incredulously.

Shawn grinned as they approached and his posture took on an even more, _Oh, yeah, I'm the man_, look. He focused a particularly mischievous smile on Juliet and she tried to avoid his gaze, still flushed with embarrassment. She couldn't _believe_ she had been checking him out. What on earth could he possibly think he was doing? "Hi guys!" he said cheerfully.

"What exactly are _you_ doing up there Spencer? You're sure as hell not working the case the Chief gave you," Lassiter said, disgust oozing from the words.

The grin on Shawn's lips was as lazy as his current position. "For your information, Lassie, I _am_ working that case."

"Shawn," Juliet said disapprovingly, "You can't be up there. You're not a lifeguard."

The corners of his mouth curled upwards mischievously and his eyes glittered in a way that said, yes, yes in fact he _was_ a lifeguard. "Robbie hired me so that I could work the inside track and get paid without raising suspicion," he said smugly.

Lassiter looked horrified. "Don't tell me they actually trust you with people's _lives_."

Shawn grinned and leaned over the side of the lifeguard's chair, waving his sunglasses at Lassiter. "They absolutely do. Hey, Jules, I don't suppose you'd like to help me practice my mouth-to-mouth skills later, would you?" he purred in her direction, eyebrows waggling suggestively.

She did her best to look disapproving despite the blush heating her cheeks and said, "No, thank you."

A smug smirk crawled onto his lips and she looked away determinedly. Lassiter grit, "We have a meeting with the owner in ten minutes, Spencer, excuse us while we go take care of the case _you_ couldn't solve."

Shawn was opening his mouth to retort when— "Shawn! _Shawn!_"

A blonde twenty-something in a red one piece that indicated she was another of the park's employees, burst out of the crowd, face red and streaked with tears. She was soaked from head to toe. Shawn's expression turned to one of surprise, but he swung down from the stand just in time to have the girl plow straight into his arms, nearly bowling both of them over. Lassiter and Juliet stared, along with the nearby attendants.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Shawn said as she continued bawling almost unintelligibly, "Calm down, Clarice. What's wrong?"

"Robbie, Robbie—it's Robbie," she wailed and Shawn's eyebrows rose as if to say, _Okay_..._and_... "I—I think he's _dead!_"

* * *

Eh, eh? YEAH??? XDDDDDDDDDDdd (I'm way too excited.)

HOTTIE EXTRAORDINAIRE, LINE UP TO TAKE A PEEK OVER HERE.


	3. Fit That Perfect Swimsuit: Trim Fat Fast

I blame the title of this chapter on centipede too, btw. Srsly. The grossness is all her. Speaking of grossness, I really did try to make this episodic, I swear. I think I got most of the elements. It's just slightly more...graphic and violent than the actual show. Which brings me to the warning.

**WARNING:** There is some gore in this chapter, just FYI. :D

Hope you guys enjoy!

* * *

"Okay. Clarice, Clarice, take a deep breath and why don't you take me, and the nice police officers here—" Shawn said, gesturing at Lassiter and Juliet, "—to wherever Robbie is."

They arrived at the Tornado Twister three minutes later. The Twister was an enormous blue tube that spiraled upward for five stories. It was the tallest attraction in the park by far and usually the most popular, but for the last week and a half, the ride had been shut down for repairs, cordoned off by eight foot high chain link fences covered in blue tarps. Clarice led them through a small gap in the fencing and pointed to the area just behind the end of the tube. The water in the pool at the bottom was tinged pink, and a puddle of diluted blood was dripping into it, trailing drunkenly from the body lying at the poolside. Shawn pried the weeping girl from his figure and started toward him. Lassiter immediately caught hold of his arm.

"Spencer, what the hell do you think you're doing?"

Shawn shot him an exasperated look. "Dude, I'm a lifeguard. This is my job, remember? You guys are the cavalry. Just give me a sec—"

"_Dude_," Lassiter said derisively, "if that man is dead, this is a crime scene and you therefore have no business going anywhere near him."

Shawn pursed his lips irritably, but gestured magnanimously for Lassiter to go ahead. He followed on the detective's heels.

Pronouncing the man dead was easy. The bloody slice dissecting Robbie Grinsley's throat made it obvious that no amount of rescue work was going to bring him back. More disturbing than that even was the fact that an entire thin slice of the man's skin had been completely removed from his chest, leaving exposed fatty tissue and muscle. Lassiter stepped back, pushing a slightly pale, grimacing Shawn along with him, and said in a tight voice, "I'll call the chief. Spencer, take that girl and go stand over there. This is now a crime scene and she's our primary suspect."

"What?" Shawn said, his disbelief evident. "You think it was _Clarice?_ So she just slit the guy's throat, who, by the way, she has been sleeping with for the last five years and has this whacked out idea that he's going to divorce his wife and _marry_ her, and then thought, 'Gee, I should go screaming through the park to get the psychic detective so he can see this'? Lassie, seriously."

Lassiter glared. "First on the scene, first suspect. Just take her aside and _watch_ her, will you?"

"Um, excuse me, officers?" a meek voice called from the gate.

Both Lassiter and Shawn turned to see a fair-skinned, dark-haired girl, probably in her mid-twenties looking at them wide-eyed from the gate. She too was drenched. "What is it?" Lassiter snapped, voice a little harder than necessary.

She quailed slightly, and Shawn took note of the white-knuckled hands clutching the gate. "I—I just, um—I saw what happened here."

* * *

Much to his displeasure, the witness, a girl named Josie, was added to what was rapidly becoming "Shawn's Babysitting Service".

His face contorted as Clarice, who was still crying hysterically and had somehow managed to find her way back into his arms, buried her nose into his shoulder, smearing wetness along the skin. Oh _gross_. Okay, that was enough of that. He didn't care if the girl turned and pulled Josie to pieces with her fingernails, he wasn't going to let her drip tears, snot, or God-knew what else onto his _flesh_.

"Hey, uh, hey, Clarice? Why don't you—" His face contorted as she wiped her wet cheek on his shoulder as she lifted her face to look at him and he continued, trying to quash the expression, "—Why don't you take a deep breath and tell me what happened?"

"I—I was back there, on the other end of the pool. Robbie was testing the Twister—it just got fixed this morning—and he had plans to meet some detectives here, because he thought Bobbie was taking money out of the park." She swallowed, her eyes welling up with tears and Shawn squeezed her shoulder, trying to be reassuring. "I was talking on my cell phone when…when he came down, because, you know, it was _Robbie_ and—" She sobbed and continued in a choked voice, "I turned around when he screamed. The first thing I saw was all the blood and he just stopped screaming all of a sudden, and slid into the pool. Everything turned red…" She choked and said, "I'm sorry—" She buried her face in Shawn's shoulder again and sobbed, shaking and clinging tightly to him. He grimaced, patting her shoulder awkwardly.

"What was it you said you saw—Josie, right?" he asked over her shoulder.

The dark haired girl nodded, arms wrapped around herself, and said softly, "I—I was sneaking in to go on the ride and I heard the scream. I helped her get him out but...he was dead."

Shawn nodded, absently patting Clarice's back as he stared at the tube opening imagining what the girls had described. He made a face. Nasty. And they had even dragged the guy, gushing blood, and already dead, from the pool, attempting to save him.

And that thought brought to mind that Clarice had essentially been swimming in his boss' blood. "Clarice—Clarice, you gotta let go of me. I—the spirits are calling me, I have to—"

She sniffled loudly, but nodded and mumbled, voice thick, "O—okay, if you have to."

"I do," he said fervently, and the second she had released him, moved quickly out of reach.

Unfortunately, he was stopped by Detective Lassiter.

"Where do you think _you're_ going, Spencer?"

Shawn grimaced. "Lassie! The spirits were summoning me to go—"

"I don't think so. I told you to stay here. In fact, while we're waiting for CSU to arrive, why don't you give me your statement?" Lassiter suggested, and his hand fastened, pincer-like around Shawn's bicep, dragging him away from the crime scene.

Shawn sighed dramatically.

"Lassie, is there a reason you like touching me so much?"

* * *

Juliet glanced over her shoulder at Shawn casually from the head of the pool where she stood waiting for CSU and the backup officers they had requested. He was standing with Lassiter, an amused smile on his face as the detective questioned him about his whereabouts, sunglasses perched jauntily on his nose. She really, _really_ hated to admit it, but Shawn had a body that was far from unpleasant. She could admire his figure without crossing any boundaries, right? She bit her lip and shook her head, turning back to the task at hand.

After another five minutes of half-listening to Shawn making Lassiter's life difficult, she spotted their backup, two plainclothes officers tailed by two members of CSU, one dressed head to toe in a wet suit, dive mask hanging around his neck and an air tank strapped to his back. A few people managed to spare a glance for the strangely attired procession, but otherwise, their attempt to keep this low-key was working. They hadn't yet located the co-owner of the park and they didn't want to cause a panic by spreading a rumor that a man had been killed on one of the rides. The fact that this particular ride was already closed down and cordoned off for repairs was proving extremely helpful.

"Lassiter," she called, "They're here."


	4. Doing Cannonballs is NOT ADVISED

This is my favourite chapter of the beginning I think. (Some of the later chapters are fun... :D) Lots of fun stuff. More gore. Watch out. Okay. Shutting up now.

* * *

As soon as Lassiter was distracted by the new arrivals, Shawn skirted around the pool to get a better look at the tube and the body. Lassiter had essentially dismissed him, and it actually seemed like he expected Shawn to comply. It was a little disappointing.

He ducked behind the tube when Lassiter turned slightly to point with an emphatic finger at the pool. Shawn was preparing to poke his head back out from behind the tube when his eyes caught on something at the rim. His brow creased, curiosity rising within him, and he ran the pad of his fingers over two rough marks in the plastic. It looked like something had peeled a thin layer right off of the chute. Now that was interesting.

Peering around the end of the tube his eyes met those of the CSU diver, now sitting at the edge of the pool and he grinned. The diver's face started to move toward a frown before suddenly clearing and he grinned back. "Hey, haven't seen you in a while, Spencer."

Shawn's grin broadened, his brain working double-time to provide him with a name. "Tell me about it—" Ah, there. Just in time. "—Murphy."

"You're not touching anything, are you?" Murphy asked, tone only half-joking.

Shawn scoffed. "Murph, do I look like a rookie?"

That spurred another grin. "Hey, I gotta make sure."

"Well then keep up the good work, man."

Murphy grinned again, shaking his head before sliding on his mask and slipping into the tainted water.

Shawn glanced around the area to make sure no one was paying him any mind before returning his gaze to the pipe and subsequently, the opposite side of the rim where he could make out another mark similar to the one he'd been inspecting. He was definitely filing that away under: Really Interesting Crap.

He edged further around the pipe and squatted down to get a better look at the body. Much to his chagrin, he was forced to turn away, breathing raggedly through his mouth, when the combination of the coppery smell of the blood and the sight of the exposed layer of fatty tissue oozing blood on the man's chest made his stomach lurch. Jeez, he was on the verge of pulling a Gus.

When he finally got his stomach under control, he turned back to inspect the corpse with a clinical eye. And if he was being honest with himself, he was almost convinced that someone had gone at this guy like a fish. He'd been _filleted_. Which only spurred the disturbing question as to where that missing slice of skin had gone.

Glancing toward the pool, out of sheer instinct, his eyes caught on something floating in one of the far corners and his mouth dropped open slightly in horror. OH _GROSS_. He shuddered and decided he definitely didn't envy Murphy today.

* * *

Juliet crouched at the poolside watching absently as the figure of their diver moved along the bottom of the pool, carefully searching for any evidence. Glancing up when it didn't seem like he was going to be surfacing any time soon, she scanned the area and wondered idly where Shawn had gone. He always seemed to be doing that. Appearing and making a huge ruckus before seeming to evaporate into thin air. It was amazing considering the sheer strength of his personality. How could a person like that just up and disappear without anyone noticing? Then again, Shawn was always surprising her.

The sound of bubbles breaking the surface pulled her out of her thoughts and she looked down, curious to see what Murphy had discovered. "Hey, wha'd you get?"

He pulled back his mask and made a face holding up one hand, saying, "Here you go, Detective, this was all I found on the bottom. I've still gotta check the drain though and our missing chunk of man is over in the corner. I'll get to work on that next."

"Please." She held out an evidence bag and he dropped a pink cellphone in before pulling his mask back on and slipping beneath the surface.

Juliet was zipping up the bag when two hands landed on her shoulders and she found herself falling headfirst toward the pool. She gasped, one hand shooting backward and clenching around the first thing it came into contact with—a leg.

"Ooh, hey, ouch, Jules! Retract the claws, I wasn't going to let you fall!" Shawn exclaimed from behind her, hands now firmly holding her in place. She could hear the amusement in his voice.

"_Shawn!_" she hissed and he chuckled, squatting beside her, one hand still on her shoulder. She glared and shrugged it off, evidence bag clutched tightly in her hand. She didn't notice as the hazel eyes behind the sunglasses zeroed in on the phone, analyzing it carefully. Had to be Clarice's. He didn't know anyone else who would have the word "BITCH" spelled out in red rhinestones on the back of their phone.

He grinned, sliding the sunglasses down a little and said, "So…like what you've been seeing?"

"Shawn," she said sternly. "That's not funny."

His smirk grew. "A guy could get self-conscious with you around, ogling him at every turn." He crossed his arms over his chest in mock modesty. "Am I going to need to cover up to keep you focused?"

Juliet's face reddened but she said primly, "If I'm looking, it's only because I can't believe how scrawny you really are."

Shawn tipped his head, his expression vaguely pitying. "Jules, you and I both know that this body leaves the ladies lying in the aisles."

She rolled her eyes. "What are you even doing here Shawn?"

He grinned cheerfully. "Working."

Juliet sighed heavily. "That's not what I meant."

He shrugged. "I'm here because somebody is being stingy with cases and I need a Wii." Which was actually Shawnspeak for, "I'm broke and can't pay the rent and Gus won't pay it for me." Two weeks ago he had literally gotten on his knees and begged Chief Vick for a case because he _liked_ his current apartment, thank you very much, and, out of sheer and utter pity, she had thrown him this not-even-necessarily-a-case embezzling gig and Robbie Grinsley had signed him on as a lifeguard to give him as much access as possible. That, and it was his way of paying for the psychic's services. The meager minimum wage he was receiving for the lifeguarding work was the best the park owner could pay. Which was exactly why he hadn't given Gus any details about his new job. It was extremely shifty looking when it came right down to it. "Besides, I don't have to tell you the girls love a lifeguard," he added and waggled his eyebrows suggestively, a wicked grin curling his mouth.

Juliet smacked him on the arm. "Shawn Spencer!"

He grinned and then gasped suddenly, fingers flying to his temple. "The cell phone! It's Clarice's!"

Juliet shot him a look. "That's great, Shawn, that'll help a lot."

His lower lip puffed out, pouting pathetically, and he sagged sideways, leaning on her shoulder. "I think I'm going to need you to hold me up for a while, Jules," he said, feigning weakness, and his hand moved to rest on hers. "That vision was a doozy."

She stiffened. "Shawn, don't be ridiculous." She pushed him off and he whimpered again.

"Hey, tell it to the spirits Jules."

"_Spencer_," Lassiter growled and Shawn winced as he grabbed him just a little too firmly by the shoulder and hauled him to his feet. "Why are you still here? Shouldn't you be somewhere else? Maybe letting someone drown, so I can arrest your ass?"

"I wish I could do that for you Lassie, really, I do," Shawn said, tone convincingly earnest, "but don't you think this man's life is more important when there are dozens of other park employees who can handle that job?"

Lassiter grit his teeth. "Spencer, _I don't want you here_."

"And I didn't want _The Sopranos_ to end. We don't all get what we want, Lassie."

The detective pushed him toward the gate. "_Go_, Spencer."

"Dude. What if I did it? You're just going to tell me to get lost? You could be letting a murderer walk!"

"Are you confessing?"

"Yes."

"Shawn!"

"_Spencer_."

Shawn sighed theatrically and said, "Fine, fine, I'm not. But what kind of way is that to conduct a homicide investigation, Lassie?"

"The way in which I don't kill anyone in the course of said investigation, that's what _way_. Now get out of my crime scene, Spencer."

"I guess if you feel that strongly…" Shawn started toward the exit gate and Lassiter sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose because he knew there was a "but" coming.

"But—"

There it was.

"I should probably mention that the dead guy is Bobbie's brother. All right. That's all I'm saying. Out of your striking Irish hair, Lassieface. I'll be—"

Lassiter ground his teeth together and said tightly, "Spencer, who the hell is 'Bobbie'?"

Shawn smiled before turning, his expression innocent. "Our other manager."

"And how do you know this is his brother?"

"I work here. The dude is always lurking around and giving me the creeps. If you ask me he was a total—"

Lassiter's hand shot up to stop him. "I didn't ask."

"Do you know the victim's name?" Juliet asked.

"Robbie. With an 'IE'."

"Seriously?" she said and Lassiter groaned.

Shawn grinned. "Seriously. And I'm pretty sure they're not Canadian."

"Ha ha," Lassiter remarked dryly. "Last name?"

"Grinsley."

"And you're _sure_ that's who it is?"

"Shirley."

Lassiter's eyes narrowed, sensing something amiss with the reply, but he couldn't be sure what exactly. "Anderson!" he barked, and a tall, thin, dark-haired officer hurried over. "Find Bobbie Grinsley, he—"

"Check the main office, near the back of the park. He likes to lurk at the security monitors," Shawn added helpfully.

Lassiter nodded sharply and the officer took off. Lassiter turned a glare on Shawn, hands on his hips, and said irritably, "What else do you know, Spencer?"

He smiled, sliding the sunglasses back on. "I thought you'd never ask."

"Give me those!" Lassiter snapped and snatched the sunglasses from Shawn's face.

"Hey! Lassie! I'm going to go blind in this sunlight! I can feel my retinas burning!"

"Shut up," Lassiter said. "And tell me what else you know about Grinsley."

"Well, he hated Dippin' Dots, which is a crime against nature—"

"Spencer! _Useful_ information please!"

"Let's play twenty questions. Okay; go!"

Lassiter's jaw clenched and he glowered. "I have a better idea. Let's play 'Idiot Fake Psychic Tells Me What He Knows Before I Threaten His Life With My Piece', shall we?"

"Well, that game doesn't sound fun at all, Lassie."

Lassiter's hands curled into fists and he took a very deep breath, closing his eyes briefly. When he opened them, a smile (only partly forced) graced his features and he said calmly, "Fine. Thank you for your time."

Both Juliet and Shawn were taken aback by the sudden change in his demeanor. They exchanged a look.

"Come on, O'Hara," Lassiter said, and almost sounded cheerful as he turned and headed toward the exit gate.

She stared after him for a second, glanced at Shawn, glanced back at Lassiter, and then directed a little shrug in Shawn's direction before hurrying to follow Lassiter.

Shawn gawked after them, mouth slightly ajar. "Dude!" he exclaimed. "Touché!"


	5. Water Logged

Dude. This chapter is short. Hahahaha. XDDD

I keep thinking I have stuff I want to say, and then I forget it. I need a brain that has better memory. Srsly. Do you think I can get that installed?

* * *

Shawn didn't follow the detectives immediately. Instead, he stayed behind at the crime scene to get a better look around. The coroner had arrived while he was teasing Juliet and was just finishing up his routine observations.

Dr. Gregory Crane was the dayshift coroner, a forty-something man with brown hair sprinkled with gray and an easy smile. Shawn liked him because he took all of his severely inappropriate jokes about death in stride and often found them as amusing as he did. They had hit it off after Shawn attempted to weasel some information out of him before discovering that he rather enjoyed helping the psychic out.

Shawn crouched next to him, grimacing at the body. "What a way to kick it," he commented and his eyebrows rose as he peered at the cuts that covered the palms of the man's hands.

Crane looked up from his clipboard and smiled. "Mr. Spencer. Actually, I think it went pretty quickly, it probably went so fast he didn't know what hit him."

"Oh, really," Shawn said, glancing at the wounds on the victim's chest. "How exactly did you reach that conclusion? Looks like it would have been slow and painful."

"Well, for one, he was fine up there and dead right there," he said, pointing. "It only takes about a minute to go through the tube. Besides, the girl said he screamed down here, didn't she? That tells me the wounds were inflicted quickly and it took just seconds for him to die. My initial guess (off the record of course) for the cause of death is exsanguination."

"Exsanguination. That's where you die of…" He wiggled his fingers around in the air like he was trying to pull the words he was looking for out of it.

Crane smirked. "He bled out."

"Right. I knew that. Well, that sounds like a pretty good guess to me."

The coroner smiled. "Shouldn't you know all of this Mr. Spencer?"

Shawn sighed, his head tilting upward. "My gift—"

He smirked and said, tone amused, "I know, I know. It's 'temperamental.' It's 'unpredictable.' Just like you." Shawn wasn't exactly sure how to respond to that, but Crane continued anyway, saying, "Was there anything else you wanted to know?"

"I don't suppose you've got any ideas about the murder weapon, do you?"

He chuckled softly and said, "You know, I might, but it's a little out there."

Shawn grinned. "C'mon. I'm a psychic. How much more out there can it get?"

Crane grinned back. "True. All right, you asked for it." He paused and then gestured at the slice taken from the chest. "You see this wound?"

"I'll say yes and not make a Foxworthy joke at your expense in the interest of hearing your theory."

"How gracious of you. Do you know what this wound makes me think of?"

"Uh…human crepes?"

Crane snorted and said, "That's eerily appropriate, but no. It makes me think of cheese."

"Cheese."

"Yes."

"As in, grilled cheese?"

"No, regular cheese."

"Shredded cheese?"

"Nooo…"

"Okay, I don't get the connection. Fill me in cheese man."

"Have you ever seen a wire cheese slicer?"

Shawn started to nod and then shook his head. "No. I can proudly say I've never even heard of one."

"Well, it's basically a metal handle with a thin wire stretched between two posts. It's used to cut cheese into thin slices."

"I don't—_ohhhh_. Ewww," Shawn said, grimacing at the body. "You think he's somebody's cheese?"

"Like I said. It's a little out there."

Shawn nodded, already looking at the tube. "Thanks, doc."

Crane smiled. "Sure. You let me know if your visions ever start predicting causes of death, okay? I'll have to have someone take care of you at that point."

"How sweet. You'll be the first to know."

He straightened up, and started toward the exit gate, contemplating what his next move was going to be. He was definitely thinking it was time to call Gus as this was starting to look a helluva lot like a bona fide case.

* * *

Gus cursed as the little spaceship on his screen blew up just one hundred points from his high score. He sighed and sat back in his chair, tipping his head back. It had been, literally, weeks since Shawn had called him, demanding that he pick him up and drive him somewhere and frankly, the lack of spontaneity was killing him.

Shawn had mentioned something about getting a job after Gus had flatly refused to help him out with his rent payments but he hadn't heard much about it after that. It was possible he had said something about water, but he couldn't be sure. Shawn hadn't been very forthcoming after he refused to help him out. If he couldn't manage to save up enough for a rainy day (or month) like this, then that was his problem. It was enough that he was paying the full rent for the Psych office on top of his own apartment; there was no way he was going to pay for Shawn's too.

His irritation with Shawn's lack of financial savvy, however, didn't extend to seeing his best friend. Shawn injected a little bit of spice into an otherwise ordinary life and he had had just about as much ordinary as he could take in the last few weeks. So against his better judgment… He pulled out his phone and pressed Shawn's speed dial.

After just two rings: "Dude, I'm at work."

Gus smirked. "Then why do you even have your phone, Shawn?"

"You never know when there might be an emergency."

"Uh huh."

"So what's up? Did you miss me?"

Gus snorted, unwilling to admit the truth. "You wish. I was just checking to make sure you hadn't gotten in any trouble."

"Aw, you _do_ miss me."

"Shut up, Shawn."

"Well, anyway, you have fantastic timing, dude. What would you say if I told you I had a one-day pass to WaterWorld with your name on it?"

"I'd say it's already past noon and I sure as hell better get the rest of that day tomorrow."

Shawn grinned. "Deal. See you in thirty?"

"Make it twenty-five."


	6. You Can Lead Gus to Water

_...But You Can't Make Him Solve Crime_

Okay. That title's sort of lame. XDDDDDDDDDDDDDD But it makes me giggle anyway, and it's water related so...

Oh, and did I mention that there's a slight sense of morbid/dark humor in this fic? XDDDDDDDDDDd

Enjoy guys:DDDD

* * *

"_This_ is where you've been working?"

Gus had met Shawn at the gates of WaterWorld in exactly twenty-five minutes, towel over one shoulder, in a t-shirt and swim trunks with a pair of flip-flops he seldom used on his feet. They were now walking over the bridge spanning the Relaxing River and Gus had just figured out what his best friend had been doing all this time.

"Yes, Gus. I told you this, like, four weeks ago."

"You _said_ you were doing lifesaving work with water. This is not what I thought you meant."

Shawn scoffed. "What exactly did you think I was doing Gus? Non-profit work to set tap water free? Come on dude."

"If I had known you were applying to be a lifeguard I never would have written that reference letter," Gus said, shaking his head disbelievingly.

"Gus! That hurts me! Deeply."

Gus rolled his eyes. "Well if you're working, then I'm going to go get in line for the Tornado Twister. I haven't been here in forever, and I'm going to enjoy it."

"_Mmm_…that's going to be a problem," Shawn said.

Gus frowned. "Don't tell me they closed it down."

"Yeah. They did."

"Aw, man! That was my favorite ride! Why did they close it down?" he demanded.

"Well, they tend to do things like that when people go in alive and come out dead," Shawn said off-handedly and Gus' hand shot out, stopping him.

"Excuse me?"

Shawn glanced at the arm holding him back and then up at Gus' face. "Dead body," he said slowly, stretching the words into several syllables. "Exsanguinated to be exact."

Gus' face twisted in revulsion. "Oh my gosh."

"Yeah, it was pretty gnarly. Guy looked like he had been filleted. But on the upside, we're finally gonna have a real case! Just in time too. I'm starting to get really bored here, despite the ratio of attractive women, and it's harder than you would think to get fired. Letting someone drown was my last option. Now I can just quit!"

Gus scowled. "That's not funny Shawn."

"Oh, sure it is. In a really morbid, macabre, off the beaten path, Tim Burton-esque kind of way."

"Whatever Shawn. So what have you got on this theoretical case you've stumbled upon?" he asked.

"It's not theoretical Gus. It's reality." He bit the tip of his thumb. "I don't have much yet. A really dead guy, a hysterical girlfriend, a suspicious good Samaritan who was trying to sneak a ride on the Twister when the dead guy died, suspected embezzling that may or may not have anything to do with this case, and a co-owner/co-manager/brother who is really starting to look bad, despite a complete lack of evidence that he was even at the scene."

"So I take it you suspect the good Samaritan," Gus concluded dryly.

"Got that right. I just have to figure out how and why. I'm positive she was involved. I mean, I guess Claire could have had something to do with it, but the constant hysterical crying and the fact that the man was the father of her child and she seriously thought he was going to divorce his wife and marry her just sort of makes it...implausible."

"They had a kid?" Gus said disbelievingly.

"Oh yeah. Four-year-old. Cute little blonde girl. I've played with her in the kiddie pool a few times when Clarice brought her to work. Robbie was playing that whole two-families-in-two-cities angle, only without the 'two-cities' part."

"Wow. Well, good luck with that," Gus said, and clapped Shawn on the shoulder.

"What? What do you mean 'good luck'? I brought you in help me."

Gus snorted. "Please. I came here to have a good time, and I'm going to do just that."

With that, he took off, strides long and purposeful and his head held high as he pointedly ignored his best friend calling after him, "Gus! Gus, wait! I need you to work this case with me! _Gus!_"

* * *

Lassiter and Juliet were headed across the park toward the back where Shawn had pointed out the main office would be, keeping occupied by discussing what they had learned so far. "Those wounds were terrible," Juliet said. "I can't even imagine what could cause something like that."

"Yeah," Lassiter agreed. "It's definitely one of the stranger deaths I've seen."

"Do you think Bobbie Grinsley had something to do with it?"

"Well we've been here for over an hour and we've seen hide nor hair of the man, that's definitely suspicious in my book, especially considering the fact that he owns half the park. Wanna bet who gets everything when brother dearest dies?"

"True…"

"Hey!" Lassiter said sharply when a man bumped shoulders with him and as the man turned, muttering an apology, the detective's eyebrows knotted. "_Guster?_"

Gus looked up, his expression surprised. "Detectives. What are you—oh. Right. The murder."

Lassiter frowned. "What are _you_ doing here, Mr. Guster?"

Gus smiled smugly. "I'm taking the day off from work to enjoy some fun in the sun."

It was then that the detectives realized that the usually immaculately dressed pharmaceutical rep was wearing nothing but a pair of swim trunks. Juliet couldn't help being impressed. He was very well built. "I wish I could enjoy this place," Juliet said, her tone belying her envy. She caught Lassiter shooting her a look out of the corner of her eye and amended quickly, "But this murder has to be solved first. It's very important that we figure out who did this."

Gus nodded understandingly. "Shawn said something about some guy dying on one of the rides. Terrible."

"Aren't you here to be Spencer's little go-fer? I thought he needed you to interpret his 'visions'," Lassiter said.

Gus snorted. "Please. I'm enjoying myself today. If he needs me, he can find me on one of the rides. It's not every day I get to go to a water park for free."

"Free?"

"Shawn got me a pass. I'm sure he expected me to help out, but he was sorely disappointed, I can tell you that."

Lassiter almost smiled at that. "Well you have a nice day, Mr. Guster."

Gus smiled. "Thank you. I will."

"Be careful," Juliet added.

They began to move around one another when Gus paused, raising a hand. "Wait. Exactly how did this guy die?"

"We're not sure yet," Juliet admitted. "He bled out from a slit throat though."

Gus made a face, fingers brushing his own neck. "…You...have a nice day Detectives." Great, it figured it would be the one thing that could ruin his day. Damn Shawn.

* * *

Shawn had a feeling that the good detectives of the S.B.P.D. were going after Bobbie, the hermit brother, and he had to admit that the man's apparent disappearing act was a little suspicious. The fact that Clarice and Josie had been the only ones around when Robbie died and the murder weapon, which had fallen off of the tube, had up and vanished, was raising serious red flags for him though. And thus the girls were being bestowed with the honor of his suspicion.

Particularly Josie, because he found it hard to believe that, talented actor or not (and Clarice was neither), it was probably more than a little difficult to cry for over an hour straight without pause without having something (like the violent death of your lover) to really cry about.

And despite the police's current desire to wait and see whether or not the murder weapon was caught in the pool filter, he had seen the filters that they were talking about and there was no way, unless this murder weapon was _really freaking tiny_, that it was stuck in the filter. Which meant that one of the girls (coughJosiecough) had retrieved the weapon and stashed it somewhere between the time Robbie's body was pulled out of the water, and the time he, Lassie, and Jules had arrived at the site.

He had a strong suspicion that the girl's devious plan had gone horribly wrong somewhere along the line if she had made it this obvious that she had been involved, though he couldn't be sure in what way. So his first goal of the investigation was to find that weapon before Lassie and Jules released the witnesses and they tried to dispose of the weapon more thoroughly. He was currently perched on the planter just outside the chain link fencing surrounding the Twister pool, watching appraisingly through a hole in the tarp as Juliet, who had just reappeared a few minutes ago, bent to get an update from the diver. A smirk was crawling its way across his lips when—

"Spencer! What do you think you're doing?"

Shawn turned, pasting on his most convincing, _Who, me?_ grin. "Dillon!" he exclaimed cheerfully. "What am _I_ doing? Well, actually, I was just checking out this hole here in the tarp, I think some kid got up here and stuck his finger through or something—"

Dillon, one of the senior employees of the park (who tried his hardest to be the bane of Shawn's existence and rarely succeeded), glared at him, hands on his hips and said irritably, "Aren't you supposed to be working at the Wave Pool right now? Does Robbie know you're—"

"Oh, he knows." Technically, it was sort of true. Okay, so that might be more of a lie. Who was he kidding? It was one of his biggest, of like, the last _month_. Not including the whole "psychic" thing.

Dillon's pockmarked face crinkled with suspicion and just a titch of disbelief and Shawn smiled his most winning smile. "Is there something you need me to do, man?" he asked innocently and his inner grin only broadened when Dillon flinched at the word 'man'. "I'm totally free. Technically, I'm on my break."

"No," he finally grit reluctantly. "I don't need anything. Just—get off of there. What kind of example are you providing for our customers climbing all over everything?"

Shawn leapt down and grinned again. "Oh, dude. Sorry, I didn't even think about it."

"Yeah, well, do next time." And with that final (and really pathetic) attempt at a dig, he turned and stalked peevishly away. Shawn rolled his eyes. Could he help it if he was more attractive, more clever, more funny, more...well, _everything_ than that walking geek-fest?

Now to find that murder weapon...


	7. Water Way to Waste the Day!

**Disclaimer for previous chapters: **The line about "first on the scene, first suspect" was kidnapped from a CSI novel. Not mine.

**Disclaimer for this chapter:** Oscar the Grouch and the Garbage Pail kids are not mind. Neither are Star Wars or Star Trek or anything related. Wet and Wild is not mine either.

**P.S.** Okay, I admit it. That title was stolen from Maja. The last bit was me though. And it's lame. I apologize. XDDDDDDDDDD

* * *

Gus smiled at the cinnamon skinned woman leaning against the refreshment stand counter beside him, her red bikini following the curves of her_ Do-I-look-like-I-care? _cocked hips in an almost criminally attractive fashion, a bored expression on her pretty oval shaped face. She smiled back with full, pouty lips, her almond shaped brown eyes nearly squinting closed. "You don't look like you're having very much fun," he said, dutifully keeping his eyes north of the equator.

She smiled again, this time revealing pretty white teeth and she said dryly, "This place is a total dump. But I promised to go with my sister's husband to take my niece and my nephew and... Well. That's what I get for being the 'cool' aunt. I'm just glad they have alcohol," she said and raised the brightly colored drink in her right hand.

Gus grinned and glanced back at the park. "Yeah, it's not exactly Wet & Wild, is it?"

She snorted and said, "Not exactly."

"How old are your niece and nephew?"

"Sixteen and fourteen. Good kids. They're a lot of fun."

Gus smiled knowingly. "But still a little young. You know," he said, expression carefully casual, "It's a lot more fun spending it with someone your age."

She bit her bottom lip, barely stifling a smile and met his gaze. "Is that so? Well then, I don't suppose you can suggest any cute, single, thirty-somethings for me to spend the day with, can you?"

Gus thanked the vendor as he received his soda and then flashed his most charming smile at her, extending his hand. "Burton Guster. You can call me Gus."

Her mouth curved into a grin and she took his hand. "Leilani Bailai. Nice to meet you Gus."

* * *

After charming Alicia, the girl currently running the concessions stand between the Twister and the Wicked Whippet, out of a cherry snow cone, Shawn began searching for the murder weapon in earnest.

Sucking thoughtfully on a mouthful of shaved ice, he considered the facts he had. 1. Odds were ten to one that Josie had disposed of the murder weapon. 2. She had six, maybe seven minutes to dive in the pool, find the murder weapon, and dispose of it. 3. Therefore, it had to have been stashed somewhere nearby. He was betting inside the crime scene. 4. Based on what he had learned from the coroner, and the marks on the chute, he was most probably looking for a thin wire with fastening clamps at either end.

See? Already oodles of information. He slurped down some of the syrup and melted ice collecting at the bottom of his cone. Now. If he were a crazy psycho chick, where would he hide his murder weapon?

He slipped into the crime scene, waving cheerfully as he passed a short, blond officer whose name not only escaped him, but had been entered into the Witness Protection program, changed identities, and was now living in the south of France.

He kept to the outskirts of the crime scene, keeping a low profile because Josie and Clarice (who was _still _crying—it had to be a world record or something) were still at the foot of the pool, now being questioned by one of the plainclothes officers.

The area around the pool was, despite the presence of the CSI and the police, uncluttered to say the least. Aside from the lifeguard stand where Clarice would have been sitting, the pipe was pretty much the only other object around the poolside. Outside the gate, three sides of the area had been sectioned off with eight-foot high chain link fencing, and covered with blue tarping. The fourth side was effectively blocked by the presence of a planter filled with fake palm trees, bushes, and other various botanical-looking chunks of green and brown plastic. So unless Josie had just chucked the wire over the fence or into the planter, he wasn't really seeing—

Ah _hah_.

Peeking through a small gap where two tarps had been tied up over the fence in the far right corner, was a trashcan.

He smiled smugly, downed the rest of his snow cone, and turned to go and find Gus.

* * *

"Picard was so the best captain."

"No way! He was awesome but—"

Shawn found Gus walking side by side with Leilani, headed in the direction of the Relaxing River.

"Gus! Dude! I— Hey. Who is she?" Shawn glanced between Gus and Leilani once and then without waiting for an answer, grinned and stuck his hand out. "Shawn. Shawn Spencer. I'm a—"

"Lifeguard," Gus cut in brusquely, glaring and he quickly began hustling Shawn away from Leilani. She watched them move just out of earshot, a bemused look on her face. "Shawn, don't even think about telling her what you're doing here. I don't want you freaking her out. I actually like this girl," he hissed.

"I'm just his best friend, no worries!" Shawn called over Gus' shoulder, ignoring him, and Leilani grinned.

"Nice to meet you!" she called back.

"Dude, she's hot," Shawn said, returning his attention to his best friend.

Gus' annoyance quickly dissolved into smugness. "I know. She moved here from Vegas and she works with pharmaceutical salesmen."

Shawn's eyebrows rose. "Dude, seriously?"

"Yeah. And—" He leaned forward conspiratorially. "She totally digs Star Trek."

"Oh wonderful. Now you two can get together and make sweet geek love and roleplay as bothans," Shawn said, rolling his eyes and turning away. "_Anyway_, I figured out where the killer, aka freaky-witness-girl _Josie_, ditched the murder weapon. I need you to come with me so you can interpret my vision of the garbage can outside the crime scene."

"First of all, Shawn," Gus said irritably, "Bothans are from Star Wars. Second of all, I do _not_ roleplay. And thirdly, and _most importantly_, I am not going anywhere with you. I," he said, pausing for emphasis, "am with a girl."

"Dude," Shawn said, sounding miffed, "What about our 'Bros before Hos' rule?"

Gus immediately smacked him. "Shut up! We have no such rule. And if we do, you've broken it more times than I can count. I'm going to kill you if she heard that."

Shawn sighed. "Yeah, all right, fine. Point taken. Go Leia some love on Leilani."

Gus shot him a look. "That was horrible Shawn."

He made a face, his nose wrinkling. "Yeah, that was pretty bad, wasn't it?" He held his fist out and Gus rolled his eyes, but bumped it grudgingly.

"Let me know if you get something."

Shawn grinned. "Let me know if _you_ get something."

Gus shot him a dirty look and returned to where Leilani stood waiting as Shawn took off at a leisurely jog in the other direction. She smiled. "A lifeguard, huh? Your own personal lifeguard, maybe?"

"Mine? No way. Shawn is like my brother, but I would not trust that man to be my lifeguard. Uh uh."

Leilani laughed.

* * *

Lassiter and Juliet were striding past the Wave Pool for what felt like the tenth time that day to Juliet and she sighed wistfully, trying to keep her mind focused on what Lassiter was saying to the officer doing his best to keep up with them. The sun was finally working it's way toward the western horizon and it was helping cool things down. Barely.

"I want to know where this guy is—I want to talk to him, sooner rather than later. He runs the park for Pete's sake, where the hell could he be?"

"We're doing our best to find him, but—"

"Lassie! Jules! Hey, wait up! Lassieface!"

"Spencer," Lassiter said loudly, not even bothering to look over his shoulder. "Would you just— What the—_SPENCER!_" He backed quickly away from the shore of the Wave Pool, cursing as Shawn's easy lope showered he and O'Hara with water. "Do you _mind?_"

Shawn smiled as he slowed. "As a matter of fact, Lassie, I don't."

Lassiter scowled.

Juliet tried to look irritated, but it was hard when the feeling of the cool water on her overheated skin was a welcome reprieve.

"I've been getting these weird flashes for the last ten minutes and I think they have something to do with the case, but I can't quite decipher what they mean. Maybe you guys can help me out?" Shawn said, the fingers of his right hand waggling near his temple.

Lassiter's face took on a nasty expression, but it was Juliet who answered first. "Sure, Shawn, go ahead and tell us what you're seeing," she said supportively. Lassiter glowered at her.

"Right, okay... I'm getting...green...fuzzy, um..." His face creased in concentration. "...A puppet? Oh. Dude! It's Oscar!"

Juliet stared and Lassiter snorted derisively, his arms crossing in impatience. "The Grouch?" Juliet clarified, bewildered.

"Yeah," Shawn said, nodding, "Yeah, it's Oscar the Grouch and...Garbage Pail kids?"

"Oh, you mean, as in _trash?_" Lassiter cut in peevishly. "Spencer, you really are an idiot if you can't interpret _those_ 'visions'."

Shawn snapped his fingers, his eyes opening and he said, "Dude, Lassie, that's it! The spirits have been trying to tell me that the murder weapon is inside the trashcan outside the crime scene!"

"Wow. All that from Oscar the Grouch and the Garbage Pail kids. You're a regular wonder, Spencer."

"That makes sense though, Carlton, if the weapon isn't in the pool." She looked back at Shawn. "Did the spirits mention what the weapon was?" Lassiter threw his hands up in an_ I give up_ gesture.

Shawn squinted, his hand moving to his temple again. "Come on guys, give me a little more info for the pretty blonde detective..." He paused for a moment and then his eyebrows rose dramatically. "You don't say. Well then." He looked at Juliet. "They say it's a wire. Like on a cheese cutter."

Juliet's eyes widened. "Oh my gosh. That makes _sense_. Carlton—"

"Yeah, yeah, I know," he grumbled. "Raine, go _find Bobbie Grinsley_. O'Hara, let's get back to the crime scene."

Shawn followed as the head detective stalked off with his partner in tow. "This is fun, isn't it guys? Working as a team? Doing the detective thing?"

Lassiter seethed.

* * *

The sound of Lassiter's teeth grinding together was audible within a five foot radius by the time the three minute walk to the Twister was over. Juliet seemed to sense that he would probably tear someone's head off if he was the one who had to tell the CSI to check the garbage can, and she immediately waved him over, taking him outside the fencing before explaining what needed to be done. Shawn grinned at Lassiter, waggled his fingers, and beat it out after Juliet before the irate detective could do more than fix him with The-Fire-and-Brimstone-Upon-Your-Unmentionables Glare of _Death_.™.

Juliet shook her head as he joined she and the CSI, who was already working on processing, at the trashcan. "You really do know how to push his buttons, you know that?"

Shawn grinned. "It's a gift...and a—no, no it's just gift."

They fell silent, Shawn focusing his attention briefly on the CSI, who was working perhaps the most tedious job ever, and then switching his gaze to something far more interesting. Something that was currently eyeing the refreshment stand as though it were a tall glass of water after a long day in the sun. He grinned. "Can I get you a snow cone, Jules?"

She flushed, gaze immediately tearing away from the stand. "What? No. I'm working Shawn."

He smirked. "It's not like they spike them, Jules. I'm pretty sure you'd be forgiven for having one snow cone on a hot day like this."

The expression on her face practically screamed _YES_. "I can't let you buy me a snow cone..."

He laughed. "Who said I was buying anything? Jules, I'm getting you one. I can practically see you salivating. Blue Raspberry?"

She met his gaze, eyes wide. "Yeah."

Shawn grinned. "Be right back."

He bounced off and she returned her focus to the garbage can, trying not to be so absurdly grateful that Shawn was a mind-reader.

The CSI was picking through the contents of the garbage bag methodically, one piece at a time, and bagging each piece when Shawn returned, holding out the snow cone.

"Here you go."

Juliet accepted the snow cone with a grateful and rather fervent, "Thank you," and a guilty glance at the apparently oblivious CSI. The look on her face when she took her first bite was enough to make Shawn's day, and he couldn't help grinning. She tipped her head at him and after quickly swallowing the mouthful, said, "I take it you had one earlier?"

One eyebrow quirked. "What makes you say that? Jules, are my powers rubbing off on you?" he gasped.

She rolled her eyes. "Your lips are still red Shawn. Unless you've started staining them for beauty purposes?"

Shawn's mouth curled into a grin. "So you admit you've been staring at my mouth."

Juliet flushed. "No! I just—it's hard to ignore when your mouth is bright red!"

Shawn's Cheshire cat grin simply grew and she huffed, pointedly turning back to the trashcan and taking another bite of her snow cone. The expression was short-lived though, the snow cone doing wonders for her mood, and the CSI (who was smirking down at the garbage laid out in front of him) lifted something in one latex-gloved hand. "This what you're looking for, Detective?"

She and Shawn both leaned in to peer at the thin wire in his hands.

"That's it, all right."


	8. Practically Blood is Thicker Than Water

Did I mention that I don't own Dippin' Dots? Cause I don't.

We're getting into the srs case stuff now. Hopefully it'll all make sense when it's over, and I haven't forgotten any details or anything. XDDDD

Happy reading!

* * *

Gus grinned as Leilani laughed. This was probably the singularly best half-day he'd had in weeks. The sun was setting and casting the whole park in an array of beautiful reds and oranges, he'd actually managed to talk Shawn in to leaving him be (for the most part) while working on a case, he'd spent time with an extremely beautiful and intelligent woman, and he'd gotten free tickets to a waterpark. It was really too good to be true.

"Which flavor would you like?" he asked as they stepped up to the Dippin' Dots stand.

Leilani smiled. "Chocolate please."

Gus turned as they reached the front of the line and jerked sharply when the clerk straightened up. "Shawn!" he exclaimed.

Shawn grinned. "Dude! We totally found the—"

"Shhh!" Gus hissed, forcing a hand over Shawn's mouth. He glanced back at Leilani and she rolled her eyes, a smile playing on her lips, and said, "I know, I know, I'll go over there."

"Thank you," Gus said apologetically and when she had moved out of earshot hissed, "I'm going to kill you Shawn! She's going to think there's something wrong with me!"

"Dude, if she knows about your unhealthy obsession with sci-fi and hasn't run away screaming yet, I doubt a few shifty-looking conversations with your best friend are going to chase her away." He handed him two cups of chocolate Dippin' Dots and nodded to the tall, lanky guy Gus hadn't even noticed standing behind him. "Thanks Timmy."

He grinned and said, "No problem, Shawn."

The two traded places and Shawn slipped out of the stand, gesturing for Gus to follow him. "The murder weapon was in the garbage can."

Gus frowned. "You told me that over an hour ago, Shawn."

"Yeah, but I was _guessing_ then. It really was there!"

"That's nice Shawn. Do you have a point? These Dippin' Dots are melting as we speak, and they're not nearly as good when they don't stick to your tongue," he said, looking unimpressed by Shawn's accomplishment.

"I need you to come with me to the main office and be my lookout. I've gotta get in there and see if I can find her on the tapes from the main gate," he said.

"No way, Shawn." Gus shook his head firmly. "I'm not doing it."

"Gus! Come on! If I can find her there then maybe I can figure out when she bought her ticket and get her full name! There's gotta be a reason that girl killed Robbie. You don't come up with an elaborate death-trap for just anyone and I can't just go to the cops with 'the spirits told me she did it'! Come on! It'll take half an hour."

"Or three," Gus muttered. With a heavy sigh he said, "Fine. You get forty-five minutes, then I'm getting back to my day. The park'll be closing in a couple of hours, Shawn!"

"I can get you and Leilani on any ride you want, after hours."

Gus thrust a hand out. "Deal."

* * *

Shawn explained as they moved through the park, Gus having given Leilani her Dippin' Dots and received the okay to go ahead and follow Shawn—she had to check in with her own brood anyhow.

"I'm positive Josie had something to do with Robbie's death. I just don't know _why_. We have to figure out what connection they have."

"You're sure she doesn't work here?" Gus said.

Shawn shot him a look. "I'm sure. I was investigating for embezzlement, Gus. I've seen every employee this park has."

Gus shot him his own _I was just checking_ look. They slowed as they neared the main office, hidden behind several cleverly placed planters. "Are you allowed in here, Shawn?" he asked, voice dropping to a whisper.

Shawn's responding whisper was not reassuring. "Well, not exactly, but I have a key so—"

Gus shook his head. "I don't even want to know."

"Don't ask, don't tell. That's a good policy Gus." The pair took several surreptitious looks around as they crept up to the door and when they were sure no one was following and/or watching them, Shawn slipped the key into the lock and pushed the door open. "There are only about four people who have keys to this office," Shawn informed him in a low voice as Gus closed the door quietly behind them. "I'm not supposed to, but Robbie always left his lying around." He shrugged. "He _wanted_ me to have a key."

Gus snorted. "Yeah, I'm sure that's exactly what that meant."

Shawn pushed open another door to their left and they strode through, Gus grunting in surprise when he plowed into Shawn's suddenly motionless form.

"Bobbie!"

The man bent over one of the consoles scribbling on a sheet of paper jerked and looked up, startled.

Bobbie Grinsley was a slightly pudgy dark haired man in thick glasses and a pair of slacks and a short sleeved collared shirt, complete with pocket protector and pens, despite the fact that he worked in a waterpark. His pale skin too defied his surroundings. He squinted at them, brow furrowing. "Shawn? How did you get a key?"

"Uh, Robbie gave me one," Shawn lied.

Bobbie's expression of confusion faded into one of annoyance. "Damn him. Never mentions anything to _me_, just because I—"

"Dude, the police are crawling all over the place looking for you," Shawn interrupted the monologue in the making. "Where have you been?"

Bobbie suddenly looked apprehensive, pushing his glasses up his nose despite the fact that they didn't need to be moved. "They are? Why? What's going on? I've been busy running all over dealing with problems." His expression became resentful. "Robbie totally dropped off radar, I've been doing everything myself. I don't _need_ this..."

Shawn and Gus shared a look and then Shawn said in a more subdued voice, "That's why the police are here Bobbie. Robbie's dead."

Bobbie's face went white, and both Shawn and Gus immediately reached for his arms as he swayed sharply to one side. "He's what...?" Bobbie said faintly.

"He's dead," Shawn repeated gently. "Someone booby trapped the Twister and he was testing it out today. I guess it was fixed this morning."

"Oh..._oh_... Wh...when?"

"Just before eleven."

"Oh..." Bobbie muttered again and then, mostly to himself, "The lockers..."

Shawn and Gus glanced at one another again. "Uh...what?" Shawn asked.

Bobbie shook himself slightly and said, "Someone spilled a bottle of soda in one of the top lockers this morning. Security called me to the lockers at ten till eleven and the woman who was renting the locker below that screamed at me for twenty minutes straight. I can't believe that's when..."

"Uh, Bob, I don't mean to be harsh, but you seem to be taking this awfully well," Shawn said.

Bobbie huffed, the color slowly leeching back into his cheeks. "Why wouldn't I? Robbie was my brother, but he was a complete jerk to me and everyone else for that matter. He was a paranoid, manipulative bastard." He snorted and then the corner of his mouth twitched. "So he's really dead?"

"Oh, we're fairly sure," Shawn replied.

Bobbie sighed, tension leaking from his frame and he actually smiled when he said, "I'm finally going to be able to get outta this place."

"That's great Bob. But it would probably be better if you kept stuff like that to yourself until we find the killer. I believe you, but the police might not. And in a segue the likes of which you've never seen, I don't suppose you might have any idea who 'Josie' is, do you?"

"His daughter?"

"I thought her name was Anna," Shawn said, frowning.

Bobbie let out a wry half-laugh. "No, not her. His _other_ daughter."

Shawn's eyebrows shot upward and he and Gus exchanged a look. "Other daughter?" Gus said.

"Yeah, the non-bastard child. Dark-haired girl in her twenties. Name's Josie. Sweet girl. A little socially awkward, but sweet. She helps us with the paperwork sometimes after hours." He glanced between the two of them. "You guys didn't know about her?"


	9. Like Water and Oil

**Disclaimer:** The Terminator is not owned by me. But is hecka cool.

Thanks to Raych for the awesome inside info on waterpark cleaning! LOL :D

* * *

"Dude!" Shawn exclaimed as he and Gus moved back in to the park proper, "That's totally—"

"Not helpful at all?" Gus cut in. "Why would she kill her own father? Even for a murderer, that's pretty twisted."

Shawn sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I know. It just doesn't make sense. I know Josie had something to do with it. I just—"

"Can't prove it?"

Shawn pursed his lips, but nodded. "Exactly. I've gotta figure out what her angle is."

"Yeah, well, you have fun doing that. It's been exactly forty-five minutes, and I have to meet Leilani at the Ragin' Rapids," Gus said, and with a waggle of his fingers, took off.

Shawn made a face after him. "Fine. I guess I'll just solve this case all by myself."

The sun was at the horizon, casting long shadows over the park and from experience, Shawn knew that that meant they were about an hour away from closing. Most of the rides would start shutting down in less time than that. His best bet for solving this case was if he could do it within that window. To do that he needed to figure out Josie's motive. So the next best place to go for information was whoever had worked most closely with Robbie.

He sighed when he realized just who that would be.

Dillon.

* * *

The uptight supervisor was skimming vomit from the kiddie pool when he found him. Shawn opted to stay on dry ground. The kiddie pool was the one body of water on the grounds that he absolutely refused to enter. And with much sweet-talking and an almost ridiculous amount of puppy-dog pouts, he had managed to avoid that highly undesirable job for all of the two weeks he'd worked at the park. Which was impressive, considering the rest of his co-workers had been subjected to it's horrors at least twice a week. Dillon managed to look professionally revolted as he waded to the pool side and dumped the vomit into a specially marked bin.

"Hey, Dill, how's it goin'?" Shawn called, barely disguising his own disgust.

The look of death that Dillon fixed on him made it expressly clear that his avoidance of kiddie pool duty had not gone unnoticed. He smiled cheerfully. "Do you need something, Spencer?" Dillon grit. "Or are you here to relieve me?"

"Oh, no, I was actually on my way to the Slip Slides, but I actually had a few questions, and seeing as you're the senior supervisor, I thought you'd be the perfect person to ask," Shawn said, and flashed another winning smile. Dillon's eyes narrowed slightly.

He exhaled sharply, obviously not interested in answering, but his sense of duty was far better developed than Shawn's. "What questions?" he asked, grabbing the chlorine container sitting beside the vomit bin and beginning to deposit it in the general area where the vomit had been located.

"You usually help Robbie with cleaning the rides that are down, right?"

Dillon looked up, confusion written across his features. That, apparently, was not what he'd been expecting. "Yes... Yes, I usually help with that."

"What about today?" Shawn asked, and the genuine curiosity in his voice threw the supervisor.

"I...no. Not today. Robbie told me to come back and clean it tomorrow." At this he looked disgruntled. "I don't understand it. We do things the same way, every time, and _now_ he changes it on me? Because of some secret _meeting?_ So_ I_ have to come in early tomorrow? I mean, I work so hard and do I get a single thing from either Robbie or Bobbie? No. Never. Not even a, 'Hey, good job Dillon, have a day off!'"

Shawn's face pinched as he tried, very hard, to pay attention to the rant. But his patience waned rapidly. "Dill—seriously man. I don't think you have to worry about cleaning it tomorrow. Can we get back to the ride?"

Dillon's face took on the irritated cast again as he waded back to the pool edge. "What more do you want to know? I clean the attraction, Robbie lets his girlfriend have the first ride, then he rides and we all go on our merry way to..."

Shawn had stopped listening though. As casually as the information had tumbled from Dillon's lips, he had gotten it and now, the pieces of the case were snapping cleanly together.

"Great, 'kay, thanks, bye, Dillon!" he shouted and took off before the stunned man could say anymore.

* * *

"You like _The Terminator?_ Seriously?"

Leilani snorted. "Do you know anyone who doesn't?"

Gus' head wavered slightly as he considered the validity of that point.

"DUDE!"

On either side of them, people began peeking over the railing to see who the voice was calling for. Gus grimaced, immediately recognizing it, even from thirty feet up. Leilani rolled her eyes, a smile playing on her lips. "I don't suppose you can just ignore him, can you?"

"DUDE! GUS! I know you can hear me!"

Gus sighed. "No, no, I can't."

"_GUS!_"

"WHAT, SHAWN?!" Gus snapped, turning to glare at him over the railing. He sort of wished he had something to chuck at his so-called best friend's head. With his luck he'd catch it though.

"Dude!" Shawn called up, "I need your help!"

"You need a lot of help, Shawn!"

Leilani's snicker only encouraged his obstinance.

"Gus! I'm serious! I think I figured it out!"

"Well good! Go tell Juliet and Lassiter!"

"_Guuus! _This could be a life or death situation!"

"I seriously doubt that, Shawn," he called peevishly down at him.

"GUS! I'm serious!" Shawn cried, his voice rising to a petulant high. "This is _important!_"

"No, Shawn! I am not getting out of this line! This is our last ride of the night!" He pulled back over the railing, determinedly ignoring the looks he was getting from the other people in the line. Shawn made a huffy noise and Gus knew he was standing there waiting to see if he was serious. After giving it a good two or three minutes, he peeked back over the railing.

Shawn was gone.

* * *

He lasted five whole minutes.

Gus cursed softly under his breath and heaved a world-weary sigh. He'd been dismissing Shawn all day long and he comes yelling about how he's solved the case and making a fuss and what does he do? Send him away again. Despite the fact that he was the reason he'd come in the first place. There was no way his conscience was going to let that go. No matter what he said "Bros Over Hos" _had_ always been the rule. And while Shawn had broken that rule an innumerable amount of times, he had never done it when Gus really needed him. He cursed again and turned to Leilani.

"I have to go."

"After Shawn?" she said and he was surprised to see her smile.

"Yeah. I was supposed to come help him and if he says it's important then I really should go. I mean..." He shrugged. "You know. Brothers."

"He's not really a lifeguard, is he?" she guessed and Gus sighed.

"No. Not usually anyway. Look, I'm sorry I lied to you, but I didn't want to freak you out. Shawn and I are partners in a psychic detective's agency. Shawn was working an embezzling case here at the park and this morning his employer was murdered on one of the rides.

"He hates to sum up a case without an audience and I'm pretty sure he just broke this one wide open. I'm sorry, Leilani, I have to go find him. Call m—"

"Are you kidding me?" Leilani exclaimed. "I'm coming with you! This park just got about a hundred times cooler! And you just got about a hundred times sexier. You should have told me you were a detective."

Gus couldn't help grinning slightly at that. "Oh. Well in that case..."

* * *

Shawn bit his lip, debating his next move as he moved through the park back in the direction of the Twister, where he was hoping to find Lassiter and Juliet and with any luck, Clarice. He was 100 percent sure now that Josie had killed her father. And if the police thought that she was just another witness, she may have been released by now, which could definitely mean trouble for Clarice.

Speaking of which...

He spotted the subject of his thoughts pushing her way through the crowd, crying hysterically and shouting, "Anna?! Anna, answer me!?_ Anna!_"

Speeding up slightly, he called, "Hey! Clarice! What's—"

"_Shawn!_" she cried, and his eyes widened as she threw herself into his arms, a fresh flood of tears engulfing her.

"Whoa, Clarice, what's wrong?" he asked. "Are you okay?"

Taking a few gulping breaths that gave him the impression that she had just surfaced after nearly drowning, she managed to sob, "It's Anna. Please, find Anna. My daughter, remember? I sent her to the kiddie pool with Tommy. But I just saw him and she's not with him, she's _gone_." Her eyes filled with tears and Shawn held up his hands as though that would protect him from the barrage of emotion. "_Please_."

"Okay," he said, "Sure, no problem. I'll go find her. I'll go get Anna. Just...relax, okay? Go find the detectives and _be careful_, okay?"

She nodded and he turned and hurried off, his stomach doing a nervous flip-flop. He had a niggling feeling that things were about to go very wrong.


	10. In Hot Water

ONoes! Whatever will happen?!

Happy reaaaaaading...

* * *

It was impossible to know where he should search. The park wasn't exactly a monster, but it was large enough that searching the entire place wasn't probable, or even plausible. He was watching the last few people being shepherded out of the Relaxing River before it was closed when, out of the corner of his eye he caught a flash of a woman with dark hair and the top of the head of a small blonde girl and he spun, taking off after them.

"Hey! JOSIE!"

Shawn caught the woman by the arm and she cried out indignantly, turning to face him. He immediately dropped her arm, mouth falling open. Not Josie. "Uh—sorry ma'am, I—"

She smiled slightly and shrugged, proceeding to direct the blonde girl beside her—who had short hair, he realized, and couldn't be Anna—toward the park entrance. He was getting way too worked up. It was affecting his eyes.

He fell still, watching the crowds making their way leisurely in the same direction. For a split second, he froze up entirely. He had no idea where to go now. He had no idea where to go and Josie was out there, still—

"You can get in the Wave Pool for five minutes honey, then we're going home," a voice from the crowd said and his eyes widened. Of course!

The Wave Pool was one of the only attractions still open at this hour. And if you were a crazy jealous psycho _freak_ bent on murdering a four-year-old girl, the slowly emptying Wave Pool would be the perfect place to drown said little girl and make it look like an accident!

He took off at a run, shouting an apologetic, "SORRY!" as he cut through a small herd of seven and eight year olds. The trip across the park was the speediest he'd ever taken.

* * *

Two minutes later, he burst out into the open area surrounding the rectangular Wave Pool, bare feet stinging, and his eyes rapidly scanning the sixty or so faces bobbing amongst the waves. _There! _He spotted Josie's pale face just shy of the five foot deep mark, bobbing slightly as the foot-high waves rolled past. His heart nearly stopped when he saw the shimmer of blonde hair just beneath the water. He put on a new burst of speed, shouting, "Out of the way! _Out of the way!_ Lifeguard coming through!" which rapidly cleared the way for him and he pushed off, plunging into the water.

Twilight had brought the temperature outside down considerably, and the water was just cool enough to sting. Adrenaline had flooded his system, and underwater, the sound of his own heartbeat hammering in his ears was almost unbearably loud. He couldn't be too late. He _couldn't_.

The chlorinated water stung Shawn's eyes but he kept them open, glad that he'd gotten those lessons in speed from his stint at the Olympic training center. His eyes met the terrified gaze of the weakly struggling little girl as he approached and he could tell she was fading fast. He wrapped his arm firmly around her waist and wrenched her out of Josie's grip.

A sharp stinging sensation erupted across the back of his arm, Josie's hands groping for Anna and he kicked off of the bottom, shooting them out of reach and to the surface. The little girl gasped raggedly as soon as her head had broken the top of the water, caught between crying and coughing violently into his shoulder. Behind them he heard Josie shriek shrilly, "_NO!_"

Shawn ignored her, focusing on keeping the little girl in his arms safely above water and panting reassuringly at her as he stroked for the side of the pool. "Ricky!" he shouted at the twenty-year-old lifeguard standing at the edge of the pool watching them with a bemused look on his face. "Come get her! NOW!" The younger man immediately scrambled to do as told, lifting the girl out of Shawn's arms and wrapping her awkwardly in his own. "Go get the police Ricky!" he ordered, pushing himself up on the edge of the pool.

He was halfway out of the water when a hand wrapped around his ankle, jerking sharply. Grunting in surprise as his arms gave out, he dropped back into the pool, and nearly sucked in a lungful of water as he slid beneath the surface again. Josie's hands came down roughly on his head, pushing him farther down and he immediately thrust out his own arms to push her away, thinking, "_Oh _hell_ no_."

The burning in his lungs was fast in coming though, and he couldn't help his movements becoming more frantic as Josie's hand smashed into his face, preventing him from moving upward. He caught her wrist in his hand, his feet brushing the bottom and he pushed off, hard, rocketing both of them back to the surface. He gasped as he cleared the water, and coughed, lungs and throat burning. Josie raked her nails down his chest, shrieking, "Why did you stop me, you bastard?! It was almost _over!_"

"You're insane!" Shawn snapped. "She's _four-years-old_, for the love of—"

"I AM NOT CRAZY!" Her hands swung at his head again.

"Oh, yes you are," he retorted. Josie's hand caught hold of his arm, her nails digging deep into his skin and he hissed, trying to pry her off. "Let go of me, you—"

"Ma'am!" a voice called, tone sharp and Shawn glanced over, relieved to see Troy, one of the other lifeguards, moving toward them, chest deep in the water and bobbing slightly with the waves. "I'm going to have to ask you to _back off_."

It was then Shawn realized that their struggle had scared the remaining patrons out of the water, and they now stood around the pool in scattered groups, gawking. He rolled his eyes. Great. Now he was putting on a show.

"Stay back," Josie snapped and he winced as her grip tightened on his arm. She looped something that glinted faintly in the light over his wrist and his eyes widened.

"Troy—just do—"

For the barest second he felt a thin wire slide against his skin and then suddenly, with a flash of searing pain, the wave passing over them bloomed red.

Oh _crap_.

"Shawn, what the he—"

Josie's arms swung up around him, the wire pulling sharply, and painfully, from the wound across the back of his arm, which was now now dyeing the water surrounding them pink. His head jerked backwards instinctively, the wire moving with him to kiss the skin of his throat and his stomach dropped sharply. _Shit. _

It pulled taut against his Adam's apple, and he realized suddenly that he was breathing rapidly, nearly hyperventilating, because with each breath he could feel it pulling uncomfortably against his skin.

"Get out of here!" Josie snapped at Troy and the other lifeguard began backing away, his eyes large and apologetic. Shawn waved a hand just barely, indicating that it was okay.

Josie's breath was hot against his neck as she hissed, "You ruined everything. I was finally going to get out of this hell hole and—"

He winced, because with every word, she tugged just slightly on the wire, which dug a little further into his skin, and he swallowed, wincing again.

"_Shawn!_" Juliet and Gus' voices carried easily over the water, as did the sound of at least half a dozen guns cocking, and Shawn opened eyes he hadn't realized he'd closed to see Juliet and Lassiter heading up a group of officers at the Wave Pool shore, guns all aimed, essentially, at him.

Charming.

He winced, back arching as Josie's grip on the wire tightened.

This wasn't going to go well.


	11. Pouring Oil On Troubled Waters

I cannot think of anything to say. Oh wait, yes I can: I'm so mean to Shawn. XD

Happy reading!

**Edit:** I rememebered something. I stole the format for the mini-memory-flashbacks from windscryer. Just FYI. XDDDDD

"Josie!" Juliet called from the Wave Pool shore, her voice with an edge of anxiety to it, but otherwise carefully controlled. "You don't have to do this. Just put the wire down, and let him go."

"Why?" she retorted. "He ruined everything I planned. What reason do I have to let him go?"

Shawn spoke up, studiously ignoring the feeling of the wire scraping along his skin. "Well, I know you didn't mean to kill your father." He grit his teeth as Josie tensed.

The looks on the faces of everyone on shore clearly told him to _shut the hell up. _He pretended he hadn't noticed.

"That's right, Josie," he said, and his voice was stronger this time, his words directed over his shoulder at the girl breathing into his skin, loud enough for everyone to hear. "You weren't trying to kill your father, were you? It was an accident."

"Of course it was an accident!" she whispered, voice choked.

And Shawn began to lay everything out, intent on distracting her as long as possible. There was no way the police were going to use bullets when there were so many onlookers, so he'd just have to figure something else out. Or hope that they did. "You'd never kill your own father, Josie. Not on purpose. I know that. No, you were trying to kill Clarice, weren't you?"

His head pulled back as her grip on the wire tightened, a wince flickering across his face. "That _whore,_" she spat.

"Your dad was cheating on your mom. And on _you_. And that pissed you off, didn't it, Josie? When you realized that it wasn't just the rides your dad was letting her go on first?"

_//What more do you want to know? I clean the attraction, Robbie lets his girlfriend have the first ride, then he rides and we all go on our merry way.//_

"So you took the first opportunity provided you. You started stealing money when you were helping your dad and your uncle out after hours, framing your uncle for the embezzlement so he would have a really _good_ motive when you suggested to your father that Clarice must have figured out what he was doing and was planning to rat him out."

//_A little socially awkward, but sweet. She helps us with the paperwork sometimes after hours._//

"It was worth it to get rid of her," Josie mumbled.

"You must have been thrilled when the Twister broke down. The perfect opportunity. And he'd even given you the chance to set up the trap, calling off the routine cleaning to keep the meeting with the detectives secret."

//_Not today. Robbie told me to come back and clean it tomorrow. I don't understand it. We do things the same way, every time, and now he changes it on me? Because of some _secret meeting?//

"So you came to the park, acting like just another patron, because hey, no one knew who you were, so you could strut around the park without ever raising any suspicion."

_//No, not her. His _other_ daughter. The non-bastard child.//_

Shawn dimly registered that someone had turned the wave generator off, and the water had gone eerily still around them. _"_You even planned to watch the destruction of everything that had been screwing with your family, didn't you? That was why you were there. Why you helped drag your father's body from the pool. And it wasn't until then that you were scared of being found out. So you fished your little booby trap out of the water while Clarice ran to get help. That must have made you so angry. First she steals your father, and then he dies because of her, and now you have to spend all day with the girl who destroyed your life? The injustice of it all must have made you crazy," he said and his voice echoed slightly, carrying easily over the flat surface of the water. The crowd surrounding the pool were silent, captivated by the narrative.

"He was _my_ dad! He was _mine!_ And that whore took him away! She took him away from me and my mom! She deserved to die!" Josie cried, and Shawn felt something wet fall onto his shoulder blade. Great. Now the psycho killer was crying on him too.

"Come on, Josie," Juliet wheedled and Shawn winced as the girl in question jerked, the wire miraculously managing not to cut him. The junior detective had managed to wade into the pool up to her waist without Josie noticing, so apparently his monologue had worked. "Surely we can work something out. You don't have to hurt anyone else."

Shawn gasped slightly, breath catching in his throat as Josie increased the pressure. "What are you doing?" she breathed. "Get back."

Juliet's gaze was fixed on him, however, obviously itching to close the five feet between them, her forehead lined with worry. "Shawn?"

He shrugged and flashed a smile. "Doin' all right, Jules."

"Get back!" Josie said, her voice rising and Juliet's gaze flicked to the eyes she could see glaring at her over Shawn's shoulder.

"Look, Josie, if you just let him go, I'm sure we can—"

With a movement that Shawn hardly even registered, the wire slid just a fraction of an inch to the side and he stifled a cry, the pain sharp and acute. The wetness of a thin trail of blood trickled downward from the fresh slice across his Adam's apple. "Get _back!_" Josie snapped.

Juliet blanched, her wide eyes meeting his for a split second and she immediately backpedaled. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

Shawn grimaced, and gave a small nod to let her know that it was okay. Juliet's eyes flickered upward, glancing at something to their left. What on earth—?

Juliet's eyes jumped back down to he and Josie and she started again, her voice soothing. "Just let him go, Josie. Please? Just don't hurt him anymore, okay? Please?"

Shawn's forehead creased slightly as he watched her plead for his life. Something was going on. And the only thing to their left was more water and..._the side of the pool_. He would have smacked himself in the forehead if it wouldn't have quite possibly meant his death. Of course. The police wouldn't just hang out on the Wave Pool shore, hoping to get a good shot or something. By now—a quick glance to the right confirmed this—they probably had officers surrounding the pool. They were angled away from the pool edge slightly, but judging from the reflection he was just now noticing near his left hip, two officers were standing at the pool edge, hardly five feet away.

Juliet's voice returned to the forefront in his consciousness as he brought himself back to the present. "...Josie, please. We can make a deal, can't we?"

"Just go away and leave me alone," Josie mumbled into his neck.

Shawn cleared his throat, flinching as the cut across his neck stung at the movement. "Hey, Jules?"

Juliet faltered, her eyes meeting his. "Yes?" she asked hesitantly.

He slowly began raising his hands to his temples. "I'm seeing..."

His hands shot up suddenly, slipping through the gaps along the side of his neck and the wire and he wrapped them around it, pulling sharply forward. The pain was instant, and excruciating, Josie's shriek of surprise mingling with his own strangled cry.

Lassiter's voice bellowed, "DO IT NOW!" And there was a tremendous splash behind him, upsetting the still water. He staggered forward, thrown off balance by his own movement and the new man-made waves. The pain in his hands increased dramatically as they were plunged into the chlorinated water. He spluttered as blood-tainted water flooded into his nose and mouth, coughing as he tried to right himself.

Then a pair of small hands were pressing against his chest, Juliet's higher-than-normal pitched voice exclaiming worriedly, "Shawn? Shawn, are you okay? Shawn—"

He coughed, still working a few stray water droplets out of his lungs, and hissed as one of the helping hands pressed against the claw-marks stretching across his chest. "I'm fine, I—"

"_Spencer, what the hell were you thinking?!_" Lassiter demanded, and his hand wrapped around Shawn's upper arm, helping pull him upright. Shawn let out a muffled but audible whimpering sound as his hands were jerked, and Lassiter let up slightly, mouth pulling tight.

"We were at an impasse. When the options were 'dying' and 'slashing my hands open', the pros of 'slashing my hands open' kind of won out, Lassie. Besides, I sensed that I had some back up." He glanced backward over his shoulder briefly to see two officers busily restraining Josie.

"I hope you're happy, Spencer," he replied grouchily. "Now I'm going to be stuck in a wet suit all night."

Shawn grinned but before he could open his mouth to retort another voice had cut in.

"Shawn!" Gus exclaimed, meeting them as they waded into the two foot deep area, "What the heck happened?! I thought you were going to get Juliet and Lassiter!"

"Well, that was the plan. But when Clarice ran up wailing about how her little girl had disappeared, I didn't exactly have time for that." He caught a glimpse of Josie being dragged out of the Wave Pool behind them, hands cuffed, as the detectives helped him sit on one of the lounge chairs that were scattered across the Wave Pool shore.

He hissed sharply, his attention snapping back as Juliet's fingers began gently trying to pry his blood-streaked hands open to remove the wire stretched between them, the handles dangling from either fist. "It's all right, you can let go now Shawn," she said gently.

He shook his head. "No, I don't think I want to."

"Shawn," she said, and her exasperation was understated, but there.

"Spencer, it's evidence," Lassiter said irritably. "Just give it to her."

"I'd really rather—"

"Here," Juliet said, her face carefully neutral as she gripped his fingers with her own, blood rapidly oozing over her hands. "I'll just—" She gently but firmly pried his fingers open and Shawn let out a strangled, gurgling cry, his face going white.

"Ow," he whispered, "Ow, ow, ow, ow, oh, god, _ow_."

Juliet's face pinched as she peered at his hands and she said softly, "I'm sorry, one more, okay?"

"No, Jules—"

With one careful, swift movement, she pulled the wire smoothly from the wounds in his hands. This cry was not muffled. Shawn hunched over, eyes closed, and breathing heavy.

"Damn, Shawn," Gus whispered, and he sounded faint.

"Dude," Shawn grit, "Get away from me. I don't want to be puked on, thank you very much for your concern."

The buzz of the crowd around the Wave Pool rose, various officers directing the patrons out of the park and trying to keep curious on-lookers away from Shawn and the posse surrounding him.

"First-aid kit, Officer?"

Shawn looked up and grinned broadly at Troy. "Hey, there's the man of the hour. Dude, that was a nice rescue attempt. I appreciate it."

Troy smirked and rolled his eyes, a smile flashing across his face as he handed Juliet the first-aid kit. "Yeah, don't be too appreciative. Dillon's going to kill you when he sees this mess. He's the one who has to clean this stuff up."

Glancing down at the blood splattered in small puddles in front of him, Shawn grinned ruefully. "That's true. ..._Ah!_ Jules—" Shawn hissed, instinctively pulling away, as Juliet did her best impression of a nurse since her brief, but spectacular stint during a Civil War reenactment some months ago. She continued pressing wads of gauze against his palms, shooting him an apologetic look.

"We have to at least slow the bleeding. You're going to be a mess when we get you to the E.R."

Shawn rolled his eyes. "You'd better call ahead and tell them to get Dr. Riley. He knows my medical history like the back of his hand."

Lassiter snorted. "I don't even want to know what that implies."

Shawn grinned cheekily. "Probably not, Lassie."

Juliet sighed, finally pulling back, and dabbed lightly at a spot on the brutally red line stretching across the length of Shawn's throat where blood was beading at the surface. "Well, it's not first rate care, but I don't think there's much else anyone can do for that. The paramedics should be here soon to take you to get stitches for your hands..."

"There's no better medicine woman in the world, Jules," he said, and winced as he flexed his hands slightly.

"I'll meet you at the hospital, Shawn," Gus said, still standing fairly far back, his eyes averted.

Shawn smirked. "See you there, buddy. Bring smoothies!"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever..."

"Ah. There they are," Juliet said, catching a glimpse of the approaching paramedics out of the corner of her eye. Her nose wrinkled as she regarded the drying blood now streaking her hands and gathered beneath her fingernails.

Shawn didn't miss the look. "Does this mean our relationship has gone to the next level? Blood is pretty intimate, isn't it?"

Juliet snorted and rolled her eyes. "Shawn, there is nothing attractive, whatsoever, about having your blood on my hands. If anything we've regressed. I think you need to stay away from me for a few weeks."

Shawn pouted, his head drooping and his pink lower lip protruding pathetically, and Juliet couldn't hide her smile. She leaned forward and wrapped him in a hug, one hand resting at the nape of his neck and his eyes widened slightly, arms moving outward to accommodate her. "You did good today, Shawn," she said softly in his ear. "I'm proud of you."

She gave him a gentle squeeze and then leaned back as the paramedics finally reached them, Shawn smiling sheepishly as he met her gaze. "Thanks, Jules," he said seriously and her own smile widened as she got to her feet, leaving him at the mercy of the EMTs.

"Wait! Jules!" Shawn cried after her retreating form, "Did we just have a moment? I think that was a moment! Wait! Come back!"


	12. Epilogue: Water Under the Bridge

For the next week, Shawn was insufferable.

"Gus, tie my shoes, I can't do it."

"You don't have shoelaces, Shawn."

"Juliet, my lip itches. Can you scratch it?"

"Ask Lassiter."

"Lassie-face! I—"

"Get away from me, Spencer, or I will not hesitate to shoot you where you stand."

"The spirits are very tactile, Chief, there's nothing I can do."

"Then will you please _go home?_"

It was a long week.

Finally on the twelfth, the doctor declared the stitches stable enough for light activity and physical therapy stretches, which rapidly turned the tables.

"Lassie, this paperweight is totally ridiculous. You need something much more—"

"O'Hara, I think it's time for Spencer's exercises," Lassiter interrupted without looking up from his paperwork.

Juliet took a rather dramatic look at her watch. "Why yes, I believe you're right."

"Aw, guys, not again. Come _on,_" Shawn whined.

"You don't want your skin to lose it's elasticity do you?" Juliet said patiently. Lassiter's smile was smug and faintly nasty as she drew the pouting psychic into the chair beside her desk and began gently working his hands with the exercises Gus had provided courtesy of Shawn's doctor.

He hissed as she slowly pushed his fingers back, stretching the skin beneath the bandage on his palm. "You guys are so overdoing this whole stretching thing—ow!"

"Sorry," she said kindly. "And we are not. Gus told us to make sure you did these at least once every hour and a half. So far we have not gone over that."

He grumbled under his breath, wincing again. "I think I know what I'm going to be for Halloween."

"Oh this should be good," came Gus' voice and Juliet looked up, smiling.

"Hi Gus."

"Hello. Has he been making trouble for you?"

"Oh, not too much."

"What am I, in daycare? I'm still here guys. Sitting right here," Shawn said, glaring petulantly at the pair of them.

"Trust me, if they accepted twenty-nine-year-olds, you would be in daycare," Gus said.

"I love you, too, Gus. _Anyway_. As I was saying, I think I know what I'm going to be for Halloween."

"Oh, really?" Juliet said, sounding appropriately interested.

"See, look," he said and pulled back the bandage on his hand to reveal a Vaseline slathered line of stitches spanning the part of his hand that usually would have shown his heart line. "I could be Frankenstein for Halloween."

"Frankenstein's monster, Shawn. Frankenstein was the doctor," Gus said, rolling his eyes at his friend's embarrassing lack of knowledge.

"No one cares, honestly, Gus. I've already got the stitches. And I think I still have that make-up kit from that time in Hollywood..."

Juliet smoothed the bandage back into place and said, "If that's what you want to be, Shawn, then I think that's great."

Lassiter snorted into his coffee.

The fake psychic's eyes narrowed at the pretty blonde trying not to laugh at him and said, "Oh, I see how it is. Let's all make fun of the gimp. Nice. Very classy guys. You know what, Jules? That moment? Yeah, that moment at the waterpark? It meant nothing to me. _Nothing_." Here it was Gus' turn to snort.

"Really?" Juliet replied brightly. "Well, that's great. You've moved past denial. Good for you." She patted his knee and flashed an encouraging smile before rising and scooping up a pile of papers. "Now we can move on."

Shawn's mouth dropped open. "What? No! There will be no moving on! I was kidding Jules! Wait! _JULIET!_"

Gus and Lassiter's laughter echoed down the hall after them.


End file.
